The Staircase Time Froze
by purpleducki88
Summary: A slightly odd tale of one Harry Potter, and his struggle to claim his best birthday present: his family! Takes place a year after the end of war. Harry/Ginny, Lily/James, Ron/Hermione; AU after 7th book, but Canon couples. Time Travel themes. Fair amount of curse words. Don't be scared if updates are scarce, they will come eventually!
1. Life Changing Weird Shit

**(A/N: I know, this is not what you were expecting. However, I've recently been trying to get this story on Mugglenet Fanfiction, which is a bit pickier than FanFiction dot net. Since I've been reworking it, some of the elements of the plot have been smoothed over, grammar issues have been fixed, and I think it has generally improved a lot. I started this story years ago, and I would really appreciate any suggestions you have for the new version. I will be reposting chapters occasionally, but there is a new one in the works. It will end up with less chapters overall, but hopefully the quality will go up. Thanks for reading!) (A/N2: Another fix to do with the timeline. So sorry. No need to reread, just know that the story now takes place a year later than it did before.)**

The green light from the muggle alarm clock illuminated the small bedroom of the only-slightly larger flat. Although the blocky numbers of the digital display blared that is was currently 1:31 in the morning, the sole inhabitant was not asleep, as he usually would be.

Harry had long since learned that strange, and often life-altering, events just loved to occur on his birthday. From his very first to his past seventeenth, July 31st never failed to be an odd day for this slightly odd man.

Harry sat straight up on his full sized bed, which took up most of the floor space, and surveyed the room intensely. Besides the double bed with his Hogwarts trunk residing at the foot of it, not much else took up floor space but piles of dirty laundry. Harry's girlfriend of a year now, Ginny Weasley, was due to return from her Quidditch training camp tomorrow, and Harry was convinced only she could make their temperamental washing machine work. Or, at least, that was his excuse. He could have used magic, but for now, his clothes from the last couple of days were clumped in neat little piles. All over the floor. Slightly odd, remember?

Anyway, Harry just couldn't sleep tonight. 3 guesses why, right? As luck would have it, it was the (very early) morning of his birthday. Actually, he'd been sleeping quite contentedly, until he'd been shocked awake and kind of stumble-ran to the bathroom. Seeing the clock, and its little date in the corner of the display reminded him that in half on hour, he would be nineteen years old.

Causing him to have a panic attack.

Would someone die? Would someone blow up? Would this be the day Ron would come and whisk him away to the Burrow in a flying- oh, right, that already happened.

Truth be told, he was also a tad bit excited for his nineteenth birthday. Throughout his early life, he had been told that the Dursleys would kick him out the day he turned eighteen. Had he never become a wizard, this would have been one year of his life exactly without the family he abhorred, which was something to celebrate, indeed. There was a residual feeling of happiness from those days when he would sit quietly in his cupboard, thinking about that glorious day when he would be his own keeper, and never have to see the Dursleys again.

Yes, for Harry Potter, birthdays had never been normal. However, he would never guess just how extra-ordinary his nineteenth would be. For this year, he would be receiving the gift of a lifetime. That is, if he didn't die in the process of getting it.

After a sleepless night, Harry gave up trying to sleep around 4 a.m. and began making breakfast. He had successfully loaded up the tiny kitchen table with eggs, muffins, fruit, toast, bacon, sausages, omelets, more toast, pancakes, and one more piece of toast when he was interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock. He froze, expecting the worst, only to be greeted by the sight of Ginny, laden with bags of clothes and Quidditch whatnot.

"Ginny!" Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and greeted her with a quick hug and a kiss.

"Harry?" Ginny looked around suspiciously at the piles of breakfast foods, "What…are you doing?"

"Oh, just whipped up a little bite to eat. Have a seat, and I'll fix you a plate," he said breathlessly, shooing her into a rickety chair. Ginny stared at her fiancée suspiciously.

"Harry, if I wanted to marry my mother I would have stayed home. What's got you so worked up? I've never seen you so…nervous." Seeing her worried face, Harry turned away from the sliders he was working on (starting early on lunch, you know) and slowly let out a breath.

"It's my birthday," he said hesitantly, and continued with her encouraging hand on his, "and weird things always happen on my birthday. I can't help but think…" he gestured in a slightly helpless way, "…that some weird shit will go down today."

"Oh Harry," Ginny said carefully, "I'm sure you'll be fine. Besides, I have a little present for you."

"Oh?" said Harry, seeming to perk up.

"Mmm," Ginny replied seductively, "but unfortunately it's hidden under my clothes until later tonight." Giggling, she slipped away from his grasp, picked up her things, and headed to the bedroom to put them away.

"HARRY POTTER, WHAT THE HELL IS THIS MESS?"

Before Harry could respond, however, a tawny owl swished through the window and dropped a letter on a cold plate of English muffins.

"HARRY, DID YOU HEAR ME?"

He had, indeed heard her, but could not take his eyes off of the envelope. On the front was his name in a curly, loopy writing he had not seen in years.

"HARRY!" Ginny flew back into the kitchen, face red with anger, "WHAT-"

But she never got to finish her sentence. Harry looked up at her in confusion.

"What is it?" He paused a second before answering.

"It's from Dumbledore."

She slowly slipped into a chair, and they both sat mutely for a full minute before she broke the silence.

"Are you…gonna open it?" He sat in silence, just staring at the small envelope.

"You know what this means, right?" he whispered, paling considerably. "The weird shit? It's happening. Right now. This letter will contain news of Life Changing Weird Shit."

She finally smiled coyly, eyes glinting with mischief.

"Five sickles says it doesn't."

He chuckled, and muttered, "You're on," whilst ripping open the letter.

_Dear Mr. Harry James Potter,_

_If you are receiving this letter, it is your nineteenth birthday. Huzzah! Let me be one of the many who surely wish you a happy birthday. You, of all people, have earned it._

_However, before you begin your revelries, I would like to relay to you a piece of information that will, undoubtedly, intrigue you. I do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but in this case, I have not been completely honest with you, and I wish to repair this breach of trust with the truth. Hard as it may be to comprehend, my dear boy, your parents are still alive._

_The night of their supposed death, Lily and James Potter were not hit with the killing curse, but another sort of curse all together. They were hit with a spell called Imortium Confrelgo. The spell, when cast, usually freezes the occupants in what can only be described as a time bubble. Depending on the strength of the spell, the victims can be stuck for an indeterminable amount of time in such a time bubble. I have reason to believe that your parents have been stuck in the year 1981 for the past eighteen years. The bad news of this, however, is that in order to keep the Order from saving them, Voldemort put strong guards on them after it was cast, which only a blood relative is able to surpass. Apparently, he had faith in his ability to eliminate your entire bloodline. Hopefully, for your sake, and the wizarding world's, you have defeated him. If not, it is with the deepest sympathy that I kindly ask you to please ignore this letter until the wizarding world is safe. Please know that I am very sorry indeed, and I know that this is much to ask of you; perhaps, it is too much to ask of you, but I beg you to understand that they are safe even from Voldemort himself in this 'time bubble.' Once you begin the journey to bring them into the present, you cannot abandon it until either you succeed, or lose your own life as well as those of your parents. And, not to seem selfish, but, my dear boy, you must understand that the wizarding world needs you desperately right now. Your parents will be protected. They can wait. We cannot._

_However, if you have indeed vanquished him, (and many congratulations if that is the case!) and you would like to go about retrieving your parents, please come visit me in my office at Hogwarts._

_As always, I wish you the best of luck, and a very happy birthday,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_


	2. Holy Mother of God

**(A/N: Again, new reworked chapter. Most important changes are plot-related, and not that noticeable. Thanks for reading!) (A/N2: same timeline fixes and clarification.)**

"Holy Mother of God," said Ginny when he finished reading it aloud. Then, "Let me go get my purse."

Harry merely sat. His mind had shut down after _your parents are still alive_ and he had yet to regain all of his mental facilities. Ginny returned from the bedroom, counting out little silver and bronze coins in her hands.

"That's 1, 2, 3, 4, and…oops, don't have another sickle, so the last one's in knuts, but it's all there, you can count if you want to." She held out the handful on coins expectantly. Harry seemed not to have heard her. She sighed sadly.

"C'mon, darling," muttered, pulling Harry up by his arms, "let's get you dressed before we go figure out what the bloody hell is going on."

Two hours later, Harry and Ginny were on their way to Hogwarts. After curing Harry's shell shock with a nice cup of firewhiskey, the two had dressed in muggle clothing and apparated into Hogsmeade, where they were now walking up the path to the castle itself.

"I wonder if Professor McGonagall knows," mused Ginny. "She is, after all, headmistress now, and we will have to go through her to get to Dumbledore's portrait."

"I hadn't thought of that," Harry said, slightly surprised. He helped her over a particularly large boulder, and said, "in any case, she'll know soon enough. I can only think of a few people I want to know about this right now, and she's on the list."

"Who else?" She smiled, dragging him away from the Quidditch pitch.

"Well…McGonagall, Ron and Hermione, of course, probably Kingsley, seeing as he's Minister, and…oh, well, and you, I guess." He smirked back at her.

"Oh, well, aren't you just a little shit. Shush, we're almost there."

"Of course you may speak to Professor Dumbledore," said McGonagall, turning in her chair to face the large portrait behind her. "Eh…unfortunately, it seems as though he is not currently available." She turned back to the crestfallen couple. "Is it anything I might be able to help you with?" Harry and Ginny shared a look.

"Well, you see Professor," started Harry, "This morning I got a very… strange letter from Professor Dumbledore."

"Ah, yes, he instructed me to deliver that to you this morning. Continue."

"Oh, well… maybe it's best if you read it for yourself," said Ginny, reproachfully. She handed the Headmistress the letter, and both waited as she read the piece of parchment that had completely altered their lives. Not for the first time the couple could remember, Professor McGonagall looked completely flummoxed, surprised, and angry all at the same time.

"What in the world…No…that meddling…and of course, now he isn't even here…! That dirty liar!" She looked up, astonished.

"You rang?" inquired a voice behind her. All three turned to look at the content portrait of Albus Dumbledore hanging behind the desk.

"Professor…what in the world?" Harry asked, beating the others to speak first.

"I am sure you are referring to the letter. Am I right, Harry?" said Dumbledore, bemused. Harry nodded affirmatively.

"Well, please allow me to explain. Less interruptions would be preferable," he said, looking pointedly at Harry. "To begin, I don't recall exactly what was in the letter, as I wrote it quite some time ago, but I believe I had described the effects of Imortium Confrelgo, correct?"

"Yes, sir, a bit," said Harry, "But what about-"

"In due time, Harry, I shall answer all you questions. As I was saying, I think I explained the time bubble effect in the letter, but perhaps a little extra explanation would be helpful. The time bubble is, in reality, an illusion. Your parents are not simply repeating actions from seventeen years ago, but living normally, thinking the year is 1981. They have food, enough to transfigure more so they stay alive. They are under the impression that they are still in hiding, and cannot leave the basement, let alone the house. They have no need for electricity, and pay no bills. However, the thing that is the most troubling is that they have not been able to advance physically or mentally for all of these years. They still act and look about twenty years old. I even created a decoy-Harry for them to fawn over and take care of."

"Wait a minute. YOU put them under this spell, Professor? How could you? Why didn't you-" Ginny questioned, disgusted.

"What choice did I have?" Dumbledore softly interrupted. "I learned of the attack from Professor Snape, and I did the best I could with the options laid in front of me. I preserved them for you, Harry. I created decoys of them, and cast the spell on basement of the house. I hid the real Lily and James there, telling them of the plan. At first, they objected, but eventually, it was agreed to be the best plan."

"Wouldn't the best plan been to have GOTTEN THEM THE HELL OUT OF THERE?" yelled Harry, voice shaking with fury, "And what about me? 'Oh, it's fine if the kid dies, but we should keep the parents just in case he survives the curse no one has ever survived before!'" He panted, surprised to find that he had leaped out of his chair.

"Harry, you must understand; that's all good and well to say now, but I found out only hours before the actual attack! I had no time to set up a safe house for you three in an even safer location. And the spell requires the caster to be outside of the area the spell will be placed upon. By the time I had gotten far enough away to cast it, you had crawled up the stairs to the decoys and disappeared, and then there was only enough time for me to send the decoy Harry down the stairs and hope for the best. I couldn't find you, and at that point I had to get out before it started. I thought I might be able to find you once Voldemort had come and gone."

"So I guess my real problem with this is," said Harry, angrily, "that you knew it was going to happen, and you didn't stop it at all. In fact, it seems like you were trying to help Voldemort. And the decoys? Who were those people?"

"Mr. Potter! That is a serious accusation. I will not-"

"Minerva, dear, I fear I failed to include one necessary piece of information. The Severus Snape who told me of the attack was, in fact, from the future. He had seen what happened, and knew he should try to stop it. So, he approached me. I knew that I had to keep the basic events the same, because obviously you cannot change events on a time line, but I knew I could do something to help you. I fixed it all up for you, as a thank you after you had ended the war. Afterwards, I wrote the letter to you in hopes that, if in some case you should perish before your eighteenth birthday, the Headmaster or mistress would easily find it and attempt to free your parents."

Harry sighed, finally exhausted. Ginny looked thoughtful.

"And the decoys?" she inquired firmly.

"Well, that's the nasty part. The decoys were temporary clones of you and your parents. They lasted long enough to be buried, but are gone today. While I was alive, your clone should have survived due to the time bubble effect, although I am doubtful he exists still. As for your parents', I assume they did a bit of improvising during the actual attack, but I had Lily and James teach them how to react in the attack. Very convincing, those lessons were," he said, looking more haggard than he had even in real life.

A moment of silence passed. "What about the part were Voldemort-"

"Not true," interrupted Dumbledore. "At the time I wrote the letter, I thought it better you not know that I was the one who had done all of this, but now I see that there is no point in keeping secrets from you, Harry. You always seem to eventually find out the truth on your own," he muttered as his eyes twinkled mysteriously.

"Wow, that's… not the answer I was expecting. Wait," said Harry shaking his head wearily, "how were you able to send the decoy-me down the stairs after the spell was cast?"

"That's the thing about Imortium Confrelgo, Harry. It is very tricky to break, because only someone close enough to the people inside of it to convince them out of it can break the spell. And until your parents believe that the year is 1999, anything can go down the staircase – but never come back up."


	3. Unexpected Everything

"Well…that's certainly not what I was expecting," muttered Ron. Harry and Ginny had rushed into the little house he and Hermione shared in just outside of London. They had apparated there immediately after leaving Hogwarts, and their meeting with McGonagall and Dumbledore. Showing up on their doorstep three hours early for the party planned for later that evening, however, was enough to clue the couple in to the fact that something had happened. And now, after the situation had been explained alternately by Harry and Ginny, their worst fears had been confirmed. Indeed, it was the return of weird shit.

"Goddamnit!" yelled Hermione.

"Hermione!" said Ron, taken aback. "Wait, does that mean I'm allowed to swear now?"

"What? No! Look, this is a very serious issue, Ronald! Have you been listening at all?" Hermione gave him a stern look.

"Of course I have, this is awful! Harry already has enough to deal with without-"

"Without what?" Harry interrupted, "I think it's fantastic." Hermione, Ginny, and Ron stared at him.

"Are you sure," said Ron, giving him a skeptical look, "because you seemed pretty bothered by it two seconds ago."

"Am I bothered? Well, yeah, of course. In some ways, it's just one more thing to put on the list of things I've done to endanger my life, or hero-ize me, or something. And of course I'm angry that it was kept from me for so long. But," Harry paused, "I could also get a my parents back. My family could actually be whole and together for the first time…" He was lost in his thoughts.

"Harry?" Hermione caught his attention, "I understand completely," she said cautiously, "But don't you think this sounds just a bit fishy?"

"Hermione, it was set up by Dumbledore. Did you not catch the part where Dumbledore did this?" Harry's eyes were hard, daring her to contradict him.

"Well, mate, it's not like he hasn't done screwy stuff before," interjected Ron, putting a tense arm around a troubled Hermione. "I mean, here's the bloke who was messing about with Grindelwald, with that greater good nonsense, sending you a letter saying that you shouldn't risk you life to save your parents-,"

"Ron, I'm warning you, one more word," Harry stood up in a flash, face red and furious. "We've been through this, so shut up before I punch you!"

Ron continued on his tirade. "I'm only saying Harry, he's done some great things, but he's also done pretty shifty things as well, and what if it's all some trap or something?"

"SO WHAT IF IT IS?" roared Harry, causing Ginny to grab his arm and reprimand him. "NO, Ginny, it's his own damn fault, he should know by now that I trust Dumbledore because of the choices he made!" He looked to Ron, "He gave that shit up years ago, and you and I both know it! He was done with that way before this…thing, with my parents. We all know it." Harry paused to catch his breath.

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Ron swallowed and looked away. Harry focused on a little hole in the rug underneath the sofa.

"Fine," Harry said defiantly, "Ginny and I'll do fine by ourselves, thanks."

"Harry," Hermione whispered, tears flying down her face, "Harry wait-"

Harry was already leaving, stomping outside, apparating home so quickly that he missed Ginny giving Hermione a quick hug and saying she would floo over after he fell asleep that night. Ron was long gone, sulking upstairs, no doubt, thought Ginny. She sighed and stepped into the bright sunshine in Ron and Hermione's courtyard. Looking up into a cloudless sky, she decided that the good news was that Hermione would still do her intensive research on the situation, and Ginny could claim she'd done it and still have time to clean up the extreme mess in the flat from her short trip. Yes, in some ways, the boy's tiff had been a godsend, and in many more, it had created problems beyond anyone's imagination.


	4. A Serious Chat

Chapter 5

**(A/N: I've tried not to do too many author's notes for this story, but I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reviewed (even the Negative Nancies) as well as everyone who has continued to read this and my other stories over the years, even with the long breaks in between chapters. I'm really happy with how this story is going, and I hope it turns out to be something as different and special as I want it to (knock on wood), even for fanfiction. Enjoy this next bit!)(P.S. HOW AMAZING WAS THE LAST MOVIE?I WENT TO A MIDNIGHT PREMIERE! I will never be complete agaaaaain...sob, cry, imminent doom.)**

Harry and Ginny's flat was in a nicer part of London, on the outskirts, yet driving distance from the Burrow and Diagon Alley. For this reason, the couple often enjoyed what they lovingly referred to as 'playing muggle' by driving to many of their destinations. On rainy afternoons, they giggled and held hands, driving their little Honda Civic round to the supermarket and picking up some groceries for a sappy dinner for two. Feeling that this favorite pastime might lift Harry's spirits on this day of Life Changing Weird Shit, they had driven to Ron and Hermione's for that ill-fated chat about Dumbledore. Both had apparated away in a huff. Therefore it seemed perfectly logical for Ginny to leave Harry at the flat with a bottle of Firewhiskey while she apparated back to drive the car home.

Knocking on the front door of Ron and Hermione's home, it suddenly occurred to Ginny that maybe Hermione wouldn't want to help after Ron had gotten his ass handed to him verbally by her boyfriend. She had started to sweat slightly when she heard Hermione's voice yelling that the door was open, and would you like a cup of tea, Ginny?

"How'd you know it was me," she laughed.

Hermione smirked and walked into the living room with two cups of hot tea. "Ron finally got round to the supersensory charms, he's paranoid that Harry will come back and kill him in his sleep. I also guessed that you would need help, and the car-"

"Okay, alright, I get it," Ginny laughed, then sighed. "I really wish it hadn't gone the way it did. Harry's always leaned on you guys to help him with things…well, things as insane as this, I suppose."

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione reprimanded, handing the other woman a steaming mug of tea. "Come here, sit down. Let me tell you something. I love helping Harry, I really do. He's basically my brother, and I know he never deserves to be put into all of these ridiculous situations, but…" she trailed off.

"But…" Ginny repeated, and leaned in closer.

"Well, it's just that you are going to get married eventually and - Oh, don't deny it Ginny, anyone with eyes can see it coming a mile away – and…" She took a deep breath. "Ginny, I think you need to start learning to help him with these kinds of things."

Ginny was dumbstruck for a second. "What – I want to help him, and I will, but…he's just always counted on you guys, and frankly, you have more experience, and, AND, this is ridiculous, because this is something that's extremely important to him, so why shouldn't we ALL help him?" Ginny finished her speech breathing heavily, feeling increasingly stupid.

"No, no, no, Ginny, it's not that we don't want to help him, but really…it's not that hard," Hermione said with a sheepish look on her face.

"Not that…Hermione, these are life threatening situations we're talking about-"

"Yes, and the life-threatening parts are very heroic and complicated, but that's Harry's part. I basically just rifle through any and all books until I find something that might help speed up the process, and Ron's really more moral support, you know. I see no real reason why you can't do both." Seeing the look on Ginny's ever-reddening face, Hermione said, "I know this sounds callous, and quite frankly, more than a tad preposterous, but Ginny, we're tired. And you always did want to join in on our missions, so…here's your chance. It's not glamorous, and it's not even really fun most of the time, but I also know that this sort of thing happens to Harry like clockwork. Not the fight with Ron, but the, well…the more important thing. You've got to understand, Ginny," Hermione took her hands and squeezed them, "I'm only saying this because I believe in you. Ron and I both do. We know that you and Harry are set together for life, and we wouldn't trust anyone else to help him set matters right. Because really, Ginny, this happens a lot more often than you'd think it would, and you've got to know how to handle it. As his friend, his girlfriend, his confidant…his wife," Ginny blushed, "Trust me when I say that if anyone can do this alone, it's you."

"Hermione…if you weren't the smartest person I know, as well as someone I consider a very good friend…" Ginny chuckled, "I might consider everything you just said complete and utter bullshit."

They both stood and she hugged the older girl.

"Thank you…for everything. And mostly for taking care of him all these years."

"It really was my pleasure, he is my best friend, after all."

Ginny grabbed her coat, and as she was walking out the door, she turned back and said, "Oh, I almost forgot to ask…how is Ron doing?"

"Oh," Hermione blushed a little, "Well, honestly, we may have planned this fight in advance. Before you ask," she added hurriedly, "After the war, we figured the next time something crazy happened with Harry, we would do everything we could to make sure you were the one to handle it. I thought it meant sitting down and having a mature conversation with the both of you, but Ron felt it should be a bit more…dramatic," she let out a quick laugh, "and I got caught up in the heat of the moment. Were the tears a bit much?"

"No, they seemed…very real," sighed Ginny. "Well, I better get going. I think I need a nap, or something."

"Remember," said Hermione before she closed the door, "just have faith in him. When the moment comes, he'll always come through. Your job is to make sure he's ready."

"Right," sighed Ginny. "I need another hug, Hermione."

"Don't we all," muttered Hermione.

"Do you think he'll be alright? That was a pretty convincing fight," said Ginny as she took a step back.

"He'll be fine. And so will you," added Hermione, with a smile. "Just remember, if things really go wrong, we're here. But…I think you can handle just about anything."

"We'll see. See you later then?"

"Oh yes, see you at the party for Harry tonight!"

"Oh, bloody effing Merlin, I almost forgot! Harry's going to be drunk off his rocker at his own birthday party!"

Hermione's shouts about Ginny's filthy language went unnoticed as the younger woman sped away into the sunny afternoon traffic.


	5. The Aftermath

(A/N: Hey everyone, I know it's been a while. This chapter has come from not wanting to do my college stuff. It's fun to be a high school senior! Also, I realize this is kind of a heavy chapter. It'll be a bit more light-hearted once we actually get into the plot. Enjoy this, it's taken me two days, and it's five pages in Word!)

The lights were off in the living room when Ginny unlocked the front door. The sliver of bright afternoon sunlight from the open door revealed a morose Harry with an empty bottle of firewhiskey in his hands. Half slumped over, he muttered, "Don't turn on the lights."

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm turning them on. We have to get ready for the party tonight."

"Party," Harry scoffed, "The last thing I want to do is party." Ginny sat down next to him and gently tried to pry the bottle from his hands.

"You sure finished this off pretty quickly," she quipped, setting it on the carpet next to her feet.

"It was already half-empty. Not enough to actually get me drunk." Ginny set her head on his shoulder, but Harry continued to stare at a spot across the room.

"Harry, we really do have to go. The party's for you." He barely let her finish before standing abruptly.

"Tell them we're sick, tell them we died, I don't care. We need to get to work."

"Harry, can't we just wait and start tomorrow?" She stood and grabbed his hand.

"No!" He turned to her. "Ginny," he said softly, "You don't know what it's like to not have your parents around. I thought mine were gone forever, and now I know I can have them. Why can't you see why I need to do this now? If we start now, I could have them back with us today! Or, at the very least, I could see them. I'll have other birthdays. If I wait too long to fix this problem, who knows what could happen to them?"

They stood for a long moment, looking into each other's eyes. Ginny finally stepped towards Harry, closing the gap between them. She wrapped her arms around his middle and laid her head on his chest.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Harry. Just…" she sniffed, "just remember that the people at this party have been family to both you and I. They will still be here for you even if you fail. If you fail," a single tear dropped, "this may be the last chance you have to see all of them. I wouldn't waste it. They are as much your family as your parents are, Harry, and you know it."

Harry finally put his arms around the woman he loved gently. There was some truth in her words, he mused. The Weasleys and the many friends had always supported him as long as he had known them, but after the fight with Ron earlier, did he really want to try and trust them again? Of course, he countered himself, not all of them were like Ron. Ugh, stop thinking about him, he told himself; he's just being an idiot. He does that sometimes.

"Alright," he whispered, "I'll go."

An hour or so later, the door of the Burrow opened to reveal the excited and tired Molly Weasley.

"Hello, you two! Birthday boy, looking very skinny, I see? Happy birthday, darling," she pulled Harry into a large hug. For that split second, he wondered how he could have ever missed this party. Then, the question he dreaded.

"Have you two seen Ron and Hermione today? Everyone else is here; it's only them missing now."

As Ginny sighed, Harry said simply, "Ron an I got into a fight earlier today, so I except they won't be coming tonight."

"What about? How dare my son ruin your birthday with something as silly as a tiff! I'm going to floo over and give him a piece of my mind! He is going to apologize, so help me-"

"Molly, that's really not necessary. It was actually over something quite serious I'll announce during dinner. I'd really love some input on this from…" he swallowed, "from my family."

She sighed, "Well, if you're sure, dear. Does this announcement having anything to do with a winter wedding, perhaps?" Molly's face brightened.

Before either could answer, Bill came around the corner and hollered, "Look here, Harry's here and Mum's trapped in the doorway with wedding talk! Poor man, that's no birthday present!"

They were whisked into the house, and didn't see each other until finally dinner began, and it was time for them to tell the people they held dear about yet another potentially fatal situation.

"Excuse me everyone, I'd like to make an announcement… of sorts."

"Hey! Speech, yeah! Good idea, Harry!"

"Um, I know it's a festive occasion, but this is actually a bit somber. You see, this morning, I got this letter…"

As the story of Harry's parents was laid before them, the gravity of the moment hit everyone quickly. Molly cried; Hagrid sat with his head in his large hands. When Harry was finally up to date, there was a moment of silence before Luna spoke.

"Harry, I think it's lovely of you to rescue your parents. I know if there was a way to get my Mum back, I'd risk everything."

Always shocked at how easily Luna could put her heart on display, Harry thanked her quietly and sat down. Ginny, who had been silent most of the night turned to her family.

"It's not meant to be this sad, it's really very exciting."

"I mean, all I really have to do is tell them the truth. I have a few ideas about how to proceed with it. The point is that I'm here to tonight to have a good time, and spend time with everyone." As Harry looked around the room, it did not go unnoticed that he had deliberately not said that he might not come back.

Wiping her eyes, Molly stood up and said, "It might be a good idea to skip straight to the presents, we can eat later."

Harry smiled gratefully as George, clearly already a little drunk, yelled, "WAIT WAIT, MINE'S UPSTAIRS!"

Later that night, at Harry and Ginny's flat, the couple was ready for some rest. Although the party had never truly regained all of its momentum, it had been quite enjoyable, and each had been able to spend some time with everyone invited. Now, both were enjoying a cup of tea before bed. Little was spoken, but much was communicated. When she was done, Ginny set her cup in sink, where it began to clean itself.

"Are you coming to bed, dear? I still haven't given you your present yet," she said with a smile.

"Give a couple of minutes, I want to think over a few things."

"Sweetheart, there'll be time in the morning. I don't have practice, and you don't start training for another month. Come to bed, you'll like this present."

"Alright, I just need two minutes, Gin."

She frowned, "Alright."

Harry sat in the dimly lit kitchen, pondering the next step. If Hermione and Ron were here…well, that would be a very different situation, wouldn't it? Stop thinking that, Harry! They're the ones being ridiculous, not you.

To clear his thoughts, Harry brought the cup upstairs with him with the intention of taking a shower before bed. However, as he walked by the study, he suddenly remembered what he had been thinking; if Hermione and Ron were still helping, the next thing they would do would be the research. Or more likely, Hermione would do the research, he thought dryly.

He stepped into the room, flicked on the lights, and stood in front of the half-empty bookcase. Searching it for books that might help, he realized there was nothing. A few textbooks, a couple of Ginny's romance novels, and several photo albums. He grabbed the one Hagrid had given that first year at Hogwarts. He stared at his parent's wedding photograph, wanting to memorize those faces, every single one of them. Now that he saw the younger versions of his parents, he wondered if the would look the same. Would he recognize them? Would they recognize him?

This is where Ginny found him half an hour later. In her pajamas already, she again gently pried an object from his hands, and set the album on the desk. Wordlessly, she pulled him by the hand and sat him down on the bed. She pulled his pieces of clothing off one by one, and helped him put on his favorite plaid pajama set. As she finally kissed his cheek and laid next to him, she rubbed her stomach, and thought about how her present would have to wait until tomorrow.


	6. The BFGs Ever

The next morning found Ginny at the stove, making a breakfast that was slightly smaller than the feast Harry had prepared yesterday.

_I can't believe that was only yesterday,_ thought Ginny. _It seems like one day lasted several chapters for no particular reason._

Besides the fact that Ginny was completely correct and justified in her destruction of the fourth wall, she shook the thoughts from her head and yawned. It had taken her forever to get Harry to just sleep.

Just then, Harry came down the stairs in a sleepy daze.

"Speak of the devil," muttered Ginny.

"What?"

"Nothing. I made eggs."

"All you can make is eggs."

"No, I also make a mean cereal," she dropped an egg and cheese laden plate in front of him.

"Grumpy," he commented.

"Mmm. Coffee's not done."

They chewed in silence for a moment.

"I want to go to Godric's Hollow today." She glanced at him, worried.

"Don't you think we should do a little research before we just jump in, head first?"

"I want to see the house. I've never been there before. Besides, we might find something that could help us." Unfortunately, she couldn't think of anything wrong with that.

"Alright. Let's put some pants on."

The road to Godric's Hollow had been long and bumpy, and it wasn't until three hours later that Harry and Ginny finally got out of the car. They stopped first at a tiny restaurant (Si Senor, an awful Mexican restaurant) before finally parking in front of the decrepit Potter's cottage. They stood and simply drank it in for a while before Harry walked up to the gate. The little sign with so many notes written on it went unnoticed by Harry as he pushed the gate open. It creaked and moaned only to revealed a relative jungle leading to the front door. Both silently attacked the weeds until the reached the entrance to the house. There was a ceramic plaque hung next to the door that read "The Potters" in a handwritten script. Harry gently took in down.

"Things just got a lot realer," said Harry, replacing it. "I want to take that with me when we leave."

"Are you sure? I don't think we even have anywhere to hang it. It seems pretty safe here."

"I'm pretty sure that's my mum's handwriting."

"…We'll make room."

As Harry's hand touched the doorknob, a strange tingling sensation began in his fingers and ran up his arm. He heard a loud rushing in his ears, and could barely hear Ginny saying, "Harry, the doorknob's glowing! Let it go!"

But he didn't. All at once, the sensations stopped, and a small click came from the door. It was unlocked.

"What happened?" said Ginny frantically.

"I think I just unlocked the door. Maybe it's been waiting for me to unlock it."

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's go in."

He gave the door a careful shove and it opened to reveal a cheerful, if dusty, foyer. Pictures of smiling people were sprinkled on light blue and yellow background. A coat rack with coats lay on the ground, a brown hat overturned nearby. Keys in a dish on a dresser. Two pairs of cobwebbed snow boots. A tiny chandelier. No rug on hardwood floors.

Harry just stared for a few long minutes, never wanting to forget, and wanting to run away at the same time. This room was the last thing his father saw before he died. Tears sprang to his eyes without warning.

"Ugh," he choked out, "Really? Crying?" He shakily wiped away the tear that had skittered down his cheek.

"It's okay, it's not like I didn't think it would happen. You are in no way less manly in my eyes," said Ginny, fishing in her bag for a hankie.

Moving through the house, everything was a slightly different version of the foyer. Classically decorated, with hardwood floors and that same light blue and yellow wall paper. However, there were always a few things out of place; dust on everything, a broken coffee table in the hall, and a closed door at the top of the stairs when every other door had already been open. They avoided the stairs, but visited the large, bright kitchen, with the four huge windows illuminating what had once been a well-kept and often used space. The table sat four, but there were two chairs in the corner.

The living room, too, was bright, with a huge bay window looking out on the street. Now covered with vines from the outside, only little rays peeped in to reveal a comfy couch and two matching armchairs. Huge sturdy bookcases lined the backwall, filled to the brim with tons of books, both magical and muggle. Harry couldn't help but giggle (in a manly way) when he saw _Pride & Prejudice_ next to _Quidditch Through The Ages._

"Ooh, we should look through these books. Maybe there's something here that would help us," said Ginny.

"Hermione would love this," said Harry. Ginny gave him a look.

"Don't dwell on it, babe. It'll all work out."

"I hope you're right. I don't think we've ever had a fight worse than this one." He sat on the plush couch. "I just don't understand. Even when we had fights before, they always wanted to solve these huge problems with me! It's kind of our thing! What do we have if we don't have a thing?"

She plopped down next to him as casually as she could. "Maybe you have adults who want to start a family. Maybe they're giving you a chance to grow up."

"Grow up? Ginny, I've grown up a lot over the past year. I live on my own, I have a job…I killed Voldemort! I think I am suffiently grown up."

"Harry, I love you, but you are not grown up. Not that I'm saying I am, either! We're getting there. Baby steps, you know?" She took his hand. "We may be adults, but we're not grown up just yet. Grown ups are independent, emotionally as well as financially. They get things done, and don't spend their weekends playing quidditch with their best friends."

"That sounds horrible!"  
"It sounds normal. Not right now, I know. Maybe when we're thirty or something, I'll stop secretly buying shoes and you'll give up quidditch."

"What shoes?"

"Nothing. Point is…baby steps, right? Grown ups solve problems on their own. Let's be grown ups about this. Ron and Hermione want to be grown ups? So can we! We'll be the best fucking grown ups the world has ever seen."

"How do you be the best grown up if grown ups are all tossers?"

"You do it awesomely, ok? Look, let's just start with this. We'll make it a game. Whenever one of us finds something helpful, we get two grown up points. When this situation is all fixed, as it will be, whoever has the most points…doesn't have to fill out tax forms or something. Winner chooses when we get there. Sound good?"

He paused and asked tentatively, "Can it be dirty?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Sounds great, Gin. Thank you."

She raised a hand for a high five. "To the best fucking grown ups?"

He high fived her and grabbed her hand. He solemnly said, "To the best fucking grown ups _ever_," and kissed her on the cheek.


	7. A Great Rack I mean, Start

**(A/N: Hey guys, I just wanted to let you know that I am eternally sorry that I don't update very often at all, but I am doing my best to make this a thoughtful, original story, and that takes time. Also, I'm graduating high school in two months, so that's a bit of a time suck. But look at it this way: once a month updates are better than none at all! Not convinced? Neither am I. Enjoy.)**

Chapter 9

Half an hour later, the couple had explored the inside of the house entirely except for that closed door at the top of the stairs. Harry decided that ripping off the band-aid could not wait, walked up the stairs with purpose, and shoved the door open with his shoulder before Ginny could protest.

The sight that lay before them was actually not as bad as they thought it would be. It was the nursery, as they had suspected, but it seemed to be protected from the outside elements despite the entire right wall and half of the one opposite the door being completely gone. A light breeze blew steadily through the hole, rustling the sheets in the crib. It was this rustling that made Harry walk over to the crib that had once been his. It was fortunate that he had, otherwise he might have missed the sealed envelope that lay within its folds, one corner twitching dangerously in the breeze.

"Ginny," he called, picking the envelope up with a hand that trembled. Turning it over, his heart skipped a beat as he read his mother's name in handwriting eerily similar to his own.

"What? Are you okay?" she said, clomping up the stairs. She hadn't joined him at first, preferring to let him explore that room on his own.

"Ginny, I think I just earned a few grown up points. Maybe. I don't know. Look at this."

"Harry…open it."

"What if it's something bad? What if it's something personal? What if it's something sexy? Ugh, I do not think I could handle it if it was something sexy."

"Harry, can you please just open it? So what if it's weird? I really need to know what's inside because the suspense is killing me and I have to pee anyway and I can't go until you open it because I need to know what's inside!"

"But Ginny, it might be really private!"

"Harry Potter, if you do not open that letter right now I swear I will kill you and OPEN IT MYSELF!"

"Okay fiiine," Harry said, carefully sliding his finger under the seal until it popped open in a very satisfying way.

"Thank you, Merlin!" Ginny yelled as she ran to the bathroom.

_My Dear Lily,_

_I know this seems odd, as you are in the next room as I write this letter, but for all that I trust the man you're talking to, I cannot speak this openly in front of him. Don't get me wrong, I trust him with my life, but I can't help thinking that what he's proposing might be a bad idea. What if no one ever finds us? Will we die alone, stuck in the same day forever, away from our friends with only Harry to keep us company? I adore Harry, but I don't think he'll be up for much conversation until he learns to talk. And what about Hogwarts? Will he go? How will he get out? How will we get out? You, of all people, should understand why he needs to go, Lily. And what about S and R and…your friends? I wish we could tell someone else. And why aren't the others that the prophecy mentions being protected like this. I need to go meet with you and him now, but I will try to distract him long enough for you to read this. Actually, I guess it's a little late to be telling you this in the letter you'd be getting away to read. Whatever, I'll just write a decoy letter on the back. I am the best planner._

_Your husband, the best planner, who loves you to infinity and back,_

_James_

Harry shoved his thoughts about what he'd just read away and turned the paper over.

_Lily,_

_I just wanted to let you know that your rack looks totally slamming in that sweater. Don't you have to go to the bathroom right now?_

_ Love, James_

_ (P.S. UrnTay HeTe EtterLe Overay)_

Just as he finished reading, Ginny came back.

"I am so glad that toilet still works I – wait, did you read it without me? What the hell, man?"

"Don't worry, you can still read it. It's…it's interesting."

"Interesting?" She raised an eyebrow. "Interesting helpful, or interesting disgusting?"

He shrugged. "A bit of both, honestly."

Skimming it, Ginny said, "I don't think your dad was the best at being secretive. Pretty much anyone in the entire world could figure out what he's talking about."

"Right? It's kind of ridiculous. The thing that makes it interesting is that he's…well, he doubts Dumbledore. How could he doubt the plan but still go through with it?"

She looked up at him with doubt, "Don't you do that all the time? Besides, Lily probably talked him out of it."

Harry ran a hand over the railing of the crib, "What if she didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"That he doubted it. The letter was sealed when we found it."

"Yeah, that's true. What do you think he means by 'your friends?' Seems pretty judgmental, like he doesn't like her friends or something."

"Well, he didn't, remember? She was friends with Snape."

"Not at this point. Didn't you tell me that they weren't even in contact at that point? From Snape's memories?"

Harry was silent. "Maybe he was covering up."

"Covering up his hatred of her friends? Not likely."

"No, no, maybe he was going to write about something else, and then covered up by finishing with that 'your friends' thing. That's a very suspicious ellipse."

"A what now?"

"An ellipse. That what a three period trail-off is called. I wasn't completely horrible at muggle schooling."

"Whatever, Hermione."

"Low blow, but thanks for reminding me."

"Aw," she butted in, "Poor Harry."

He sighed. "Whatever, let's go home. I think we've explored all I can take today. And, what's more, we didn't even find them. I think you might be onto something with that researching idea."

She smiled. "I knew you'd catch on eventually. I'm always right." And with that, she hooked her arm through his and lead him out. And they made it all the way to the top of the stairs before they had to split up because it was too narrow to walk side by side.


	8. The Library

The next week was a shuffle of absolute confusion. Having, for the first time, no legitimate access to the Hogwarts library, Harry was at a complete loss as to how to start. He fretted a full day and a half away before Ginny finally suggested they go to the National Wizarding Library of Great Britain.

Harry stopped his nervous rocking on the couch in the living room, and called back, "What?"

Ginny sauntered out of the kitchen with two plates of salad and handed him one. "You know, the National Wizarding Library of Great Britain?" She took her place next to him and flipped on the telly, adding, "They have the very best story time, Mum used to take us all the time so she could do some shopping. Of course, it was only once Fred and George were at school, otherwise they would've set the place on fire just looking at it."

Harry took the plate, dumbfounded. "Wait…there's more than one wizard library?"

Ginny tore herself away from _Britain's Got Talent!,_ and responded in an exasperated tone, "Well, duh, Harry, where do you think adults go when they need books?"

He searched for an answer, finally muttering half-heartedly, "Flourish and Blotts?"

"Oh please, because Flourish and Blotts has hundreds of historical texts, original manuscripts handwritten by Merlin himself, the biggest collection of wizarding music scores in the world, copies of every magazine and newspaper imaginable, AND a slide shaped like a hippogriff?"

"There's a slide shaped like a hippogriff?"

"It's right next to the Hogwarts playhouse, complete with tiny Quidditch pitch and reusable potions lab."

"We have to go there right now."

That afternoon, they walked up to the abandoned girl's school on the outskirts of London marked MYSS HONEYSUCKLE'S GRAMMAR SCHOOL FOR GYRLS with some trepidation, and Harry tightened his grip on his wand in his pocket. The surrounding streets were filled with long-abandoned shops and small, run-down houses, and the signs all around the building marking it as condemned didn't help much, either.

"Are you sure this is it, Gin?"

"Yes, I've been here millions of times. I still can't believe you've never been here."

"Yeah, I find it hard to believe Hermione never dragged me here. What if she doesn't know about it? Could you imagine the heart attack she would have? Something like this would kill that girl!" Harry chuckled for a moment, then remembered his last encounter with his two best friends. He struggled to swallow, and noticed Ginny looking at him worriedly. " Anyway. How do we, um, how do we get in?"

Ginny decided to ignore his episode for a minute and move on. "Well, much like any important building in the wizarding world, there's a secret entrance. Now…it's somewhere in the playground, but I can't exactly…" She trailed off, searching the small empty courtyard.

"Can't exactly…what?"

"Um," Ginny said nervously, "Well…I don't really remember what it was."

"Ginny! I thought you said you'd been here millions of times!" Harry threw his hands into the air in exasperation.

"I know, but my mum usually got us in, and I kind of didn't pay much attention…"

"Could it have anything to do with this statue of a little kid reading a book?"

"Oh my god, yes! How did you know?"

Harry just gave her a look. "Library?"

"Oh. Right. All we have to do is read his book."

The statue in question was of a small boy, perhaps eight or nine, reading an over-large book with one finger in his nostril and the other pointing at a word at the end of the small poem, as if trying to decide how the word was pronounced. Harry and Ginny looked over his shoulders, squinting at the book.

_"The rabbit let out of his cage_

_ A most peculiar type of mage._

_ Who, acting upon his rage,_

_ Turned the rabbit into a turnip," _Harry read aloud. "What the hell is this nonsense, Ginny?"

"Never mind, Just keep reading," she told him, exasperated. He looked skeptical, but continued.

_"Suddenly, from a strange land,_

_ came a lad with a wand in his hand._

_ He tasted the turnip,_

_ But his tongue did not burn up,_

_ And discarded the turnip as bland." _Harry chuckled and said, "You take over, Gin, I can't read any more of this garbage." She rolled her eyes and read.

_"From the blue skies, a mighty storm railed._

_ And yon mage and yon boy were impaled._

_ Killing fools was its habit,_

_ Lone survivor, the rabbit._

_ Eat your veggies to avoid this tragic tale."_

Harry burst out laughing. "Are you joking? The moral of that story is 'Don't forget fruit and veg?' That's hilarious, I can't wait to tell Ro-"

Suddenly the ground was whisked out from under them, and they were falling, falling, fast and hard, until they landed on something soft and silky.

Dazed, Ginny said, "Well, welcome to the National Wizarding Library of Great Britain."


	9. The Replacer

**Chapter 9: The Replacer**

**(A/N: Thanks to all the new readers, and all the people who have been following for a while! I'm having a slow summer, and somehow that brought me back here. Never thought I would still be writing this in college, but I always come back to this stuff. Anyway, I'll shut up, but I really do appreciate everyone reading this, and all of my other stories. I seem to be having a little renaissance of popularity with people finding my work, and I love you all!)**

Harry rubbed his head, woozy from the fall, and pushed his way out of what seemed to be the world's largest pillow in the middle of a huge lobby. The walls and ceiling were made of cheery yellow clay bricks, and the floor was covered in intricate blue, red, and white tiles. Similar tiles decorated the walls, creating colorful murals of wizards reading, one under a tree, another to a few children, yet another on the back of a dragon, and even one at the bottom of a lake. There was a large terra cotta fountain in the middle of the lobby, upon which a few real wizards were perched, also reading books. At the other end of the airy room were several arched entrances manned by stuffy looking librarians.

Following his lead, Ginny explained, "The place was decorated by Spanish wizards, isn't it great? I always forget how beautiful this place is."

It was like nothing Harry had ever seen, and he had to agree, it was quite beautiful. As they approached one of the entrances, Ginny pulled out a worn-looking card from her purse.

"What's that you've got there?" Harry asked, suspicious.

"Library card. Don't worry, we'll get you one. They're free, they're just so they know where to send the owl for your late fees."

"Oh. So it's just like a muggle library? That seems…weird," He replied uncomfortably.

She shrugged. "Yeah well, you know what they say. If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

The woman in the entrance directed them to a large circulation desk to the left, and just a few minutes later, Harry was staring at his face on a small plastic-like card.

"Eugh, is my smile really that large?"

"Only when you're with me," Ginny said glibly, causing Harry to chuckle.

"Too true, dear, too true."

They passed through a low, tiled arch and approached a huge tile with a map on it, titled _EL MAPA. _Thankfully, the labels were in English, and they found the time travel section easily enough in the back left corner. Making their way over proved difficult, as the library was mostly one huge level with a few lower levels for more fragile documents. However, twenty minutes later found them sat a table with a huge stack of books for each of them.

The next part took a while. It wasn't for another three hours that either of them found anything useful. Bored, Harry had wandered away into a smaller section labeled Long-Term Spells. Skimming the titles just for something to do, he stumbled upon something that caught his eye, a thin, black volume entitled _Spells That Survive Death_. Harry's eyes widened almost immediately, and he thumbed frantically to the index in the back. Surely enough, a search of the, "I" section provided him 'Imortium Confrelgo,' and he raced back to the table with excitement.

"Ginny, I think I've actually found something!" Ginny woke from the nap she had been taking on a huge tome entitled _Traversing Time: Not Your Mother's Magic_.

"Wazzat?" she said groggily.

"I think this might be something good, something about the actual spell!" He shoved the book in her face.

"Oh," she said, waking up. "Oh! Oh Harry, that's great! I found something too, about the decoys-" She picked up a heavy volume called_ Becoming_ _Untraceable in Time_, and opened up to a page marked with a ripped piece of parchment.

"Says here that it can be quite common practice to create decoys, or as they call them, 'replacements,' so that you can move through time, and no one notices an absence. Seems like some have had better luck with them than others, but most were able to chalk up anything big to an evil twin-type situation. I mean, I think we'll be fine, but still, it's fascinating."

"Yeah, they way you were drooling on the book, it seems like you were super fascinated," he interrupted smugly. She made a face at him.

"Cute. It also gives a couple spells that can be used to create and destroy them, so I copied them down here for you, unless you have anything else to say about my drool."

"That's brilliant, Gin!" he said, scanning the list. "These are pretty simple. Who knew charms we learned from Flitwick can be used for this kind of thing?"

"Well, it's not like we learned them all for nothing," she said, rolling her eyes, "And to answer your question, Flitwick, probably. Just a wild guess."

"Yeah, but I never thought I'd be using a beauty charm to make a 'replacer' or whatever because I messed around with time."

"Point taken. Also, 'replacement,' dear. Not that hard. Also, I think I am due my two grown up points."

"Ooh, very true. So we're tied now," he said, smirking.

"It would appear so, Mr. Potter. Ok, now your thing!"

"Oh yeah, ok! So, I wandered into this other section, saw this book, and I remembered that Dumbledore cast this spell, right? And he's dead, so the spell survived him, right? So I looked in the back, and the book mentions the spell! So I brought it to you!" He finished with a proud, goofy smile.

"Fantastic! What did it say about the spell?"

"What?"

"What did the book say about the spell, babe?"

"Oh, I…I didn't read it yet. But it looks pretty good so far!" Ginny just shook her head and took the book from his grasp.

"Hopeless…" she muttered. "Well, I say you only get one point because you only worked it out halfway. Fair?"

Harry sighed. "I guess so. But I get two when I actually read the book, ok?"

"Um, no, you only get one more. Sorry babe, I didn't make the rules, that's just have to the game is played. Anyway, let's check this stuff out and get out of here. I think if I have to read one more word, I'm going to kill myself."

Harry sighed. "I completely agree. I don't know how anyone does this for fun. And besides, at least we learned about the decoys, so this trip wasn't a total loss."

"Yeah. Hey Harry?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Do you wanna go slide down that Hippogriff as badly as I do?"

"Probably worse, so lets go do it like 12 times each. Sound ok?"

Ginny grinned widely. "Sounds beautiful. But first, we gotta get these books. And you're a guy, so you have to carry them."

Both turned back to the table to see that the considerable pile of books had somehow grown. Two unfamiliar books were on top of the ones they had found. Perplexed, Harry picked one up.

"_The Compendium of Arts Moste Darke_…did you put this here, Gin?"

"No, did you put this…_A World Without Time_...here?"

"No. Maybe we should take them anyway, they seem like they could help."

"I mean, I guess…maybe someone put them here on accident? All these tables do look similar."

"Yeah well, finders keepers, losers weepers. Let's get out of here already, that Hippogriff is calling my name!"

"Ok, ok. We'll take them. Pick 'em up, pack mule!"

Neither noticed the pair of large brown eyes watching in satisfaction from behind the books in the bookcase next to them. Hermione smiled, knowing that if she couldn't directly help her friends, she could at least guide them in the right direction. Neither of them had even seen her planting those books on the table, or conveniently placing that book at Harry 'found' at eye level with a yellow sticky note right next to it, or even just doing her regular job in plain sight. I mean, did they forget she volunteered at the Library on the weekends? Idiots. They really did need her help. She shook her head and turned back to the stack of books she was supposed to be putting back, and tried to remember why she had ever abandoned them in the first place.


	10. 1 November 1981

Chapter 10: 1 November 1981

**(A/N: CAUTION: This chapter describes a dead cat in some detail, so for those of you with delicate constitutions, keep your eyes open. Probably the weirdest chapter I've ever written because of that little bit right there. Anyway, thanks for your continued support. For some reason, this story is reaching a lot of people, and whether it's through you guys spreading it, or just plain old luck, I want to thank everyone who reads it. Reviews are super appreciated!)**

The harsh BRRRRING of the old alarm clock woke Lily Evans Potter with a start. She wiped the sleep from her eyes blearily, and was confused for a moment. She was surrounded by all of her own furniture and décor, but the walls were not the egg shell blue she had painted them (by hand) three years earlier, when she and her husband James had first moved into the little cottage on Chrysanthemum Lane. They were, instead, the dull grey concrete walls of her basement. It all came back to her suddenly – Dumbledore's plan, the hurried preparations, the fear she nightly slept with like a security blanket…and the prophecy that caused it. Reaching out to her bedside table, she grabbed the battered alarm clock, still ringing, and brought it closer for inspection. The display caught her eye. It read 1 NOVEMBER 1981, and the time was 8:05 a.m. _The first day of Dumbledore's plan. I hope all is going smoothly up there, _she thought to herself with a sigh. _Here we go._

She left James, who required more than one alarm in order to wake up before 11, dead asleep in bed, and took a quick shower in the converted laundry room. There were some perks of living in a converted basement, and pre-existing plumbing was one of them. She ran a brush through her hair, avoiding looking in the mirror. She knew she would see the same thing she had seen for the last few years: a beautiful red-headed woman in her early twenties, now with bags under her eyes and a couple early grey hairs, thanks to the war and, of course, her year-old son, Harry.

Speaking of which, after finishing her morning routine, Lily went to check on her young son. His room was oddly quiet, which made Lily feel uneasy. Harry was a very good, yet colicky, baby, often waking his parents up in the middle of the night with his cries and coughs. She carefully tipped his door open so as not to wake him. Upon entering the room, however, Lily was met with and strange and slightly gruesome sight. Harry was laying stock still, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. However, the strangest part was that the small baby seemed to be flickering in and out of focus, like a television with a bad connection. However, Lily doubted whatever was wrong with her son could be fixed by messing with the rabbit ears.

Panic setting in, she called for her husband in a voice that came out more like a shrill cry. Here was her baby boy, her only child, fading away before her very eyes. She screamed and tears fell fast as she watched his tiny prostrate body disappear for longer and longer periods of time – several seconds at least by the time her rumpled and wide-eyed husband got to the doorway were she stood frozen, staring at the petrified body of her son in his crib. Then, the cries were multiplied, screams of what is happening, oh god my baby, I thought he couldn't hurt us anymore what can we do oh god why us why him NOT MY BOY, MY BABY, TAKE ME, NOT HIM, NOT MY HARRY, PLEASE was soon mixed with WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BASTARD LILY RUN I'LL TAKE HIM GRAB HARRY and frantic scrambling, trying to find the source of their son's pain. All of their searching came up empty, however, and all they could do was watch in horror as their miracle boy, their source of hope and ray of light…faded and twisted, morphed and transformed into…a mangled, smelly, rotten carcass. A dead tabby cat. Both sat on the ground next to crib in shock.

"Tibbles?" questioned Lily shakily. And indeed, it was Tibbles. They had adopted the cat when they had bought the house, a stray that had somehow managed to wriggle his way in through the window in the downstairs bathroom, and into their hearts. Friends had joked he was good training for having a child because he was so needy. Their first communal pet now lay dead in their child's crib, wearing his onesie and matching hat. The gruesome sight sobered the couple quickly.

"What the fuck is this?" whispered James, leaning in closer, only to be repulsed by the smell. "What's happened?"

"It's…but…how?" Lily hiccupped through her renewed tears.

"Wait, when did Tibbles die?" James sat there bewildered.

"Where's Harry?" Lily stumbled to her feet, bumping the crib into the wall. She felt no pain, however, only the adrenaline rush of a mother trying to find her son.

"Wait, wait, Lil, I remember this. Remember, Dumbledore turned Tibbles into Harry? So that Voldemort couldn't get him?"

"I know, I know all of that, James! If that's the replacement Harry then where is my baby?" she demanded fiercely, quaking with fear.

James glanced around the room, now on full alert. "I – Lily, maybe he's somewhere else in the basement. Let's go look, I'm sure he's fine." But Lily was already out the door, into the cramped living/dining room. She overturned pillows, looked under the makeshift couch, the card table and folding chairs that served as a dinner table, and in each of the supply pantries. The truth was painfully clear to her as she slumped against the last one and began sobbing listlessly: Harry was not in the basement. Her baby, the only reason they had decided to go through with this stupid plan, wasn't even being protected. He was out there in the world, with no protection or help. He was probably already…but Lily couldn't allow herself to go there. As James finally came to the same conclusion, she ran up the stairs to the slanted cellar doors, pounding on them, begging to be let out. She screamed and wailed, banged and kicked, but they did not open. On the other side, even the animals didn't react, used to the noise.

An hour later, she gave up, completely drained. She turned to see James sitting on the floor behind her, watching. Tears streamed down his face.

"There's no way out, Lily, you know that."

"There has to be," she croaked hoarsely, "He's out there. I need him."

"There's no way. You heard Dumbledore, the bubble will pop only once Voldemort is dead for good. Who knows how long that could take?"

"THERE HAS TO BE A WAY!" she shouted, oblivious.

"Lily, I'm doing this for your own good." James carefully raised his wand as Lilly rounded on him. "Stupefy."

Lily woke, hours later, to her alarm clock once more. She wiped the sleep from her eyes blearily, and was confused for a moment. She was surrounded by all of her own furniture and décor, but the walls were not the egg shell blue she had painted them (by hand) three years earlier, when she and her husband James had first moved into the little cottage on Chrysanthemum Lane. They were, instead, the dull grey concrete walls of her basement. It all came back to her suddenly – Dumbledore's plan, the hurried preparations, the fear she nightly slept with like a security blanket…and the prophecy that caused it. Reaching out to her bedside table, she grabbed the battered alarm clock, still ringing, and brought it closer for inspection. The display caught her eye. It read 1 NOVEMBER 1981, and the time was 8:05 a.m. _The first day of Dumbledore's plan. I hope all is going smoothly up there, _she thought to herself with a sigh. _Here we go._

**(A/N: Reviews are immensely appreciated!)**


	11. Meanwhile: August 11th, 1999

Chapter 11: Meanwhile, August 11th, 1999

**(A/N: If you were feeling like going back and reading from the beginning, you're in luck! I just went back and cleaned up the first and second chapters (fixed the timeline, clarified some things, changed some awkward phrasing), so it's the perfect time to go back and review every single chapter not that I'm asking for that but I wouldn't turn it down. Also, sorry this story got so heavy for a second there. Hopefully this will fix that up a little bit! Again, thanks for all of your continued support!)**

Ginny woke up (as she did most mornings) to the radio station on her alarm clock playing the top muggle pop songs. Today's was a sultry number that seemed to be about being a genie in a bottle, and seemed to involve an awful lot of rubbing, which went against everything Ginny had ever learned about genies that lived in bottles. Professor Lupin had been adamant that they preferred to be 'lightly petted' rather than rubbed, as the rubbing caused an earthquake-like effect within the bottle itself.

Rubbing aside, Ginny was in a relatively good mood, until she had a sudden and violent urge to throw up. She hurled herself out of bed and into the adjacent bathroom, reaching the porcelain throne just in time. She had just finished when she heard soft footsteps in the carpet behind her.

"Babe? Are you ok? This is the third time you've vomited this week." Harry asked, wiping sleep from his eyes blearily.

Ginny looked up at him forlornly. This was the topic she had been avoiding all week. Well, more specifically, since his birthday. Ginny had found out three days before Harry's birthday that she was pregnant. Despite the fact that she was only eighteen, that she and Harry weren't married, and that neither of them had any steady source of income, she had been overjoyed at first. Those three days she had floated on a cloud, knowing that she was coming back from Quidditch camp with the perfect present for Harry: a son. (She guessed; Weasleys had a very good track record with boys.) Of course, anxiety and nerves had crept in every now and then, but were easily fought back with the thought of her boyfriend's happiness. While she was excited to start a family, Harry was practically foaming at the mouth. They'd already discussed names (Harry wanted Severus desperately for the first boy, but Ginny was vehemently against having to surgically remove underwear from her oldest son's rear end daily due to wedgies. They had compromised after a two-day argument that their second son's middle name would be Severus if their first son's name would be James. James Sirius. Good lord. Ginny didn't even want to think about the countless battles they'd had over girl's names.), the number of children they wanted (Harry wanted as many as they could handle and then a few more; Ginny was more content with three, maybe four), and their parenting methods (tough, but fair). However, all of her happiness had gone down the drain with that little letter from their long-gone headmaster. There was no place for her new life within the new adventure. In fact, for the first couple days, she had almost forgotten her happy secret; only daring to think of it once they were in bed, and Harry's breathing had slowed to a soft rumble. Only then did she creep out of bed to examine her mysteriously flat stomach in the mirror. She allowed herself to be happy in those moments, if only for even a minute, before she remembered that she hadn't told Harry yet. What worried her even most was the fact that Dumbledore had mentioned that Harry might not survive this quest for his parents, because while fearing for her love's life in and of itself was not new, but Ginny couldn't imagine raising Harry's child without him. The boy who lived, never getting to have a real family. It was inconceivable, and she was so frightened that at times she just wanted it to all go away. His parents, the letter… even, lately, the baby. And before she started showing, she could pretend it had. But as time went on, she couldn't pretend any longer. As she and Harry dove further and further into the project at hand, and her bouts of morning sickness increased, she knew the day of reckoning was coming. And on this hot and muggy August morning, bare legs stuck to the tiled bathroom floor with sweat, quickly expanding stomach peeking through her tank top and shorts, she looked her boyfriend in the eyes and knew this was no longer her burden to carry alone.

"Harry…Harry, I'm…I am," she sighed heavily, "pregnant," she stammered out, a single tear splashing a path down her ruddy cheek.

Harry quickly sobered up, blinking profusely. "With…with a baby?"

"Yes," Ginny choked out, wiping the stray moisture violently away from her face.

"Ginny," whispered Harry, "Ginny, are you serious? Are you sure?"

"Yes!" she wailed, waving her hands helplessly, "Harry, I am very sure! I'm four months pregnant and I don't know what to do!"

"Ginny, this is amazing!" Harry got down on the floor with her. "We're having a baby!" He hugged, holding on almost too tightly. "Oh, my god, we're going to parents! This is the best day of my life!"

"But Harry, we're not married…and, and your parents…I mean, it's awful timing!" Confused, Ginny didn't notice the tears falling once more.

He finally drew away from her. "Ginny. This…this is more than I could have ever dreamed of. I have the chance to have a family, a blood-and-guts family that's mine, and mine alone. And not horrible people, not the Dursleys, people I really want to spend time with, who really want to spend time with me. And what's even better, I'll be doing it with you! I…" he looked away. "I know it's going to be hard. As in, really, really, really hard. But I am so willing to do whatever I can to make sure that everything goes right. Trust me on this."

Ginny softened. "Harry, you know there's no one I trust more than you. But…we can't raise a baby. We're just kids." She muttered.

"Gin!" He exclaimed, "I'm Harry freaking Potter! I can do anything! And one day…" He paused, took a deep breath, and said, "Wait one sec," as he got up and ran into their bedroom. Ginny shifted nervously on the floor.

"Babe, where're you going?"

"This'll take just one second, I know it's here – oh, thank god. Coming!" He scrambled back to the floor, now with a small black velvet box in his hand.

Her eyes widened. "Harry Potter, is that-?"

"Shh." He cut her off. "Just wait, like, one second. I was gonna do this later tonight, actually, cause, you know – Happy birthday."

She was surprised. She had forgotten her own birthday.

He kept going. "I was going to do this right." He swallowed. "I asked your parents already, and Hermione helped me pick this out, and we can still go to the nice restaurant, just for a nice birthday dinner, I made reservations and everything, but I think it's better that I do this part now." Harry propped himself up on one knee. Ginny gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.

"Ginny Weasley. You… mean more to me than any other person on this earth. You are everything that's good in the world. You're funny, and wickedly smart, incredibly beautiful, and above all, you are my very best friend. I can't think of another person I'd want to spend every single second of every day with the way I want to spend each of them with you. And when I say I know we'll get through this together, it's because I know that if there's anybody strong enough, smart enough, and brave enough to get through this mess, it's you. Gin, I love you so, so much. Probably more than you even know. Will you…marry me?"

He fumbled with the box for a moment, finally snapping it open to reveal a delicate silver band with strands of gold curled around the sides, both wrapped around a small, shining, square cut diamond. On either side of the diamond were two smaller red rubies to finish off the exquisite engagement ring.

"Harry…" she stammered, throat closing, tears threatening to fall. "Harry, do you even have to ask?"

He grinned wider than she had even seen, and gripped her in a hug even tighter than before.

"Yes, Harry, a million times yes!" she shouted as the tears fell quickly onto his pajama shirt.

Later that night, at dinner, Harry broached a subject he had been thinking about all day.

"Ginny…have you told anyone besides me that you're pregnant?"

"No, I wanted you to be the first to know. Why?"

"I just…do you get the feeling that your parents are kind of going to brutally murder me?"

"Yeah…I was kind of thinking we could wait to tell them until…like, probably after I actually have the baby."

He nodded. "That seems like both a very good and very bad plan."

"I agree, but I'd rather not have you brutally murdered. I think I'd like to keep you around a little while," she smiled, taking his hand into hers.

"Oh, please," he smirked at her. "You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

**(A/N: I love love love reviews!)**


	12. After a Busy Night

Chapter 12: After a Busy Night

**(A/N: Wow! I don't know how this story is suddenly becoming popular, but thanks to all of you guys for the alerts and favs and reviews and whatnot. You're all the best! This will probably be the last chapter for a little while, what with me going back to school and everything, so I tried to make it a little longer to make up for that. Hopefully you enjoy it, and don't forget that I appreciate each and every single review!)**

Ginny woke the morning after her birthday to hear Harry talking quite loudly on their telephone in the kitchen. She got out of bed and crept into the connecting hallway, lingering in the doorway, listening to his voice contentedly.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, we will be…I've told you, there's no need to shout, I can hear you perfectly fine! Just…ok…I know. Would you kindly just tell Mrs. Weasley that we will definitely be coming over today for Ginny's birthday lunch? Thank you so much. See you soon too. Ok. Ok. Yes. Thank you. Ok. That's very true Mr. Weasley. Ok…Arthur. Good talking to you too. See you soon. Bye." Harry hung up and sighed deeply, falling heavily into a chair at the table.

"Was that my dad?" she inquired, slinking into one of the chairs at their kitchen table. Harry flinched, not having noticed her arrive during the conversation.

"Morning Gin. It was. Coffee?" She gave him a confused look.

"Tea, hon. Have I ever once woken up and wanted a cup of that mud?" Harry shook his head, blinking profusely.

"Sorry, babe," he got up and began preparing her tea. "Just a little out of it, I guess."

"So," she prodded gently, "What was the call about?"

He stopped making tea. "Call? What call?"

"Harry! You were literally on the phone with my dad two seconds ago! What was it about, already?"

"Oh…that call," he stalled. "Well, funny thing, because we didn't have your birthday dinner with them last night, we're going to go have lunch with them today, if it's ok by you. It was the only way I could make sure I had you all to myself on your actual birthday." He smiled nervously and handed her her favorite mug of tea.

"Mmm," She mused, studying him. "Well, I guess that's understandable. What time do we leave?"

"About two hours? Charlie's coming in from Romania, so -" Ginny interrupted him, astounded.

"Oh good lord, how many people are going to be there?"

"Everybody and anybody, seems like. I mean, it is your birthday, after all."

"But isn't it just my birthday lunch? People like Charlie only come out for big events." Harry was suspiciously quiet.

Ginny got out of her chair and paced for a minute before rounding on Harry quite sternly. "Harry, did you perhaps let it slip that you would be proposing to me last night?"

"Well, I don't-" Harry fumbled.

"And why did you have to let them know we'd be coming just now? Wouldn't they already know since you arranged it a while ago?"

"It's always a good idea to double check these things, Gin-"

Ginny squinted at her fiancé, examining him. "Harry. What aren't you telling me?"

**A MONTH BEFORE GINNY'S BIRTHDAY**

Arthur Weasley was spending a lovely summer afternoon, as he had many others, in the barn where he kept his growing collection of muggle artifacts. The walls were lined with broken electronics, damaged books, shattered records, various pieces of clothing…the list goes on and on. This particular day, his attention was focused solely on a television remote, now in pieces as Arthur struggled to discover how the buttons made the channel change. He had been working for several hours when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" He hollered, trying to hide his work in case it was Molly.

"Mr. Weasley?"

He looked up to find Harry standing in the doorway, looking at him tentatively.

"Harry! Come in, I didn't even know we had visitors!"

"Actually, it's just me. I wanted to talk to you."

"Really? What about, son? Take a seat." He patted a stool with a well-worn cushion on it beside him.

"That's ok. Um…" Harry chuckled and paused.

"Yes?" Arthur asked, impatient to get back to the clicker.

"It's a bit of a sensitive issue, I guess."

Arthur dropped his smile for a moment, confused. "Would you rather we talked inside?"

"No, no, this is perfect. Mr. Weasley - "

"Harry, how many times must I ask you to call me Arthur?"

"Arthur…as you probably know, I've been going out with Ginny for a while now."

Arthur's smile dropped altogether and he nodded awkwardly. "Yes… yes, I know."

"Well, sir, I…I really love your daughter, and I know she's the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. That's why I want to…um, I want to ask for your permission to marry her."

This caused Arthur to laugh. "My permission? Harry, if you think you need my permission to marry Ginny, you have another thing coming to you! I don't think Ginny has ever asked my permission to do anything, and I don't think she'd need it get married, especially to you."

"I know, but it sort of seemed like the thing to do, I mean, I got the ring already, and I want to have a romantic dinner, ask her on her birthday, the whole works. I don't know, it just seems like the next step is to ask her parents. And obviously you and Mrs. - "

"Harry - "

"Molly," Harry said, blushing, "you and Molly are more than just 'her parents' to me, so I wanted to make sure I did everything I could to make sure you two approve. Also I need to postpone her birthday party so that I can ask her."

"Well, here's your answer, come with me."

Arthur walked with a spring in his step out of the barn and into the yard separating it from the house, Harry tagging along tentatively.

"MOLLY!" Arthur called towards the open kitchen window.

"YES, WHAT IS IT DEAR?" she answered, sticking her head out.

"HARRY WANTS TO KNOW IF HE HAS OUR PERMISSION TO MARRY GINNY!"

"WHAT?"

"WHAT?"

"WHAT?"

Heads stuck out of windows all over the Burrow, to reveal Ron in one, George in the one underneath him, and Bill and Fleur trying to fit their heads into the window framing an already crying Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh geez," Harry muttered. As the onlookers all rushed out to join Harry and Arthur on the grass, it was the hysterical Molly who reached them first, dragging Harry into what was probably the most painful hug ever given to him, including those from Hagrid. In a few moments, his shoulder was soaked, and the rest of the gang had had time to catch up with the matriarch, even Ron, who seemed to be close to an asthma attack from all the stairs.

"Harry…darling, baby boy! Of course you can marry Ginny! We've always wanted you in the family, and now you officially will be! Oh, I always knew it would happen someday!" Molly jumped up and down, Harry clinging on for dear life.

"Ok, dear, let go, just for a moment. Let the boy breathe," Arthur coaxed.

"Just a little longer!" Molly squeezed him for a few more seconds before finally releasing him as Ron stepped towards them.

"Mate, why didn't you tell me you're proposing to Ginny? We could've waited and done 'em both in one go!" Ron, of course, was referring to the fact that he and Hermione had been engaged for 4 months now, and that Hermione and Ginny were actually out at her Bachelorette party right now.

"Well, with the wedding coming up and stuff, it was kind of hard to see you without Ginny being there too, and…I kind of thought you'd freak out," Harry said skittishly.

"Freak out? Are you joking? Mate, I'm ridiculously happy for you! I mean, yeah, she's my sister, but I can't picture her with anyone but you. That's just crazy. You know that." Harry finally broke into a wide grin.

"Thanks, Ron. That really means a lot to me."

"Well, well, well. Little Harrikins and little Gin-gin are finally going to tie their little knot and have lots and lots of famous babies. It's about time, you twat!" George tackled Harry into a headlock, ignoring his mother's admonishments on his language, and not letting go until he had sufficiently ruffled Harry's hair. Bill finally managed to drag George away by his collar, allowing Fleur the chance to swoop in and engulf Harry in a hug that easily rivaled Mrs. Weasley's.

"Oh, 'Arry! I am zo proud of you! Ginny iz going to be zo happy, and zen maybe you will make ze children, so Victoire will have zome leetle friends, yes?" Fleur looked at him eagerly as Harry felt his face go red. Mr. Weasley's face darkened.

"Not for a while, Fleur. Not for a long, long time," Arthur muttered darkly. Molly whapped his arm, rolling her eyes.

"Oh Arthur, who are we to judge? We started as soon as we could, remember?" She walked her fingers up his arm seductively. All her children made faces of disgust, George even going as far and pretending to throw up for much longer than truly necessary.

"Ahem, so Mrs.-"

"HARRY-" Molly positively screamed.

"MOLLY! While of course I wanted to ask if I could marry your daughter-"

"YES! A million times yes, dear!" She tried to trap him in yet another hug, but Harry managed to side step her at the last second.

"Thank you, but I also wanted to know if it would be possible to maybe move Ginny's birthday dinner to the next day, so that I can take her out and propose to her, to make it extra special."

"Cheapskate," George muttered, "You just didn't want to buy her a ring and a present." Harry ignored his comment and turned to Mrs. Weasley for an answer.

"Well," she replied, troubled, "I mean, we always have the birthday dinner on the day of your birthday…it'll be the first time I don't see her on her actual birthday!" she lamented.

"What if…" Harry thought out loud, "What if we made it a birthday lunch, so you could have her for even longer the day after?"

"I suppose…Oh Harry, I'm being silly. Anything for you! What am I doing, of course you can take her out then. Just let us know ahead of time what time you'll be coming. I assume you might want to sleep in after a…" Molly blushed, "busy night." Her three sons gagged and stumbled back into the house, making choking noises. Harry, blushing more than ever, quickly said his goodbyes and made his exit.

**THE DAY AFTER GINNY'S BIRTHDAY**

Ginny clenched the side of the sink for dear life while Harry told the story, and was silent for several minutes afterwards.

"She…" Ginny finally broke her silence, "She actually said that? After a 'busy night?'"

Harry nodded. Ginny started giggling, which turned to guffawing, which subsequently became gales of laughter. She was laughing so hard her eyes began to tear and she actually had to sit on the floor. Harry was laughing with her, relieved she wasn't angry.

"Don't think I'm not angry but…sweet merciful Merlin! I can't believe my own mum said that! Good Godric!" She struggled to breathe through her laughter. "Whew, I really needed that laugh…good LORD..."

"Alright, alright, it's not that funny. In fact, it kind of creeps me out. Look," he said soberly. "I didn't ask them because I don't think you're an independent woman or whatever-"

"Which I am, thank you very much!"

"Exactly. It's just an old muggle tradition, and honestly…because I feel like your parents have sort of been my parents for the last few years, it's really important to me that they think this is a good decision. That's all, really," he said sheepishly.

"Harry," Ginny gripped his arm gently, "That is so so sweet, and I completely understand, but did you really have to ask their permission? You could have just asked their opinion."

"Isn't it the same thing?" Harry looked confused while Ginny guffawed.

"Maybe for some girls, but not for me. You're just lucky it's you, because anyone else would have a bat tornado coming out of their nostrils right about now," she clapped him on the shoulder and winked at him before sashaying out of the kitchen. "And by the way, I except breakfast on the table when I get back!"

He stood still for a few minutes, shocked that she had taken that so well, until a cry of "PANCAKES, HARRY!" almost made him leap out of his skin to fetch the ingredients. As he mixed them together, he could only grin and think of his fiancée's unpredictability, and how it was one of the things he loved most about her.

**(A/N: That's all for now folks! Please please please review!)**


	13. That Humid Thursday Night

Chapter 13: August 19th, 1999

**(A/N: Sorry it's been a while, yadda yadda, whatever, nobody wants to hear that. Thanks to all still reading at this point! Reviews are still appreciated and really do make me remember to write faster! Also, sorry this takes yet another dark turn. This story cannot decide if it wants to be a comedy or a tragedy.)**

**Thursday**

Harry had woken up the morning after Ginny's birthday lunch practically walking on air. He was engaged to the woman he loved more than he'd ever imagined he could love another person, they were having a baby, which for so long had been almost unthinkable for him, and to top it all off he was so close to getting his parents back he could taste it. First year Harry would have exploded if he'd known that everything he'd seen in the Mirror of Erised, and more, would one day come true. The only problem now was, of course, the most daunting: his parents.

The week after Ginny's birthday was filled with long, boring days of researching and planning accompanied by long, sleepless nights of worrying and sweating. It was a particularly hot August, and both Harry and Ginny were certainly feeling the heat. Their patience with each other was in short supply, and their fuses even shorter. To make things even more complicated, in the back of Harry's mind was the constant niggling reminder that he was supposed to start Auror training at the end of the month. Not only did that mean less time to work on freeing his parents; it also meant dealing with Ron. Harry knew he would be grouchy and flat- out ignore him at best, but would be actively angry and physically aggressive at worst. But he couldn't think of that now. He had to focus on the task at hand.

September became a kind of deadline for him. As the clock ticked closer and closer to the end of August, Harry became more and more frustrated. The constant reading and reviewing was wearing his nerves down to a very thin dust. The inactivity was driving him insane. He was sure that he could fix everything in a matter of minutes if he could just get down there, and Ginny had to pull him back from that particular train of thought many times. So many, in fact, that it culminated in a particularly bad row that humid Thursday night.

"Ginny," Harry argued for what seemed like the hundredth time, "you don't understand, they're my own parents. They're going to recognize me. I don't need all this bullshit paper work. This really won't even be that hard!"

"Harry, you clearly don't understand that this whole thing," she gestured with her hands wildly, "is the opposite of 'not being that hard.' For Merlin's sake, we still don't even know that much about the spell! We don't know what will happen when it breaks, we don't know how it's affected them this whole time, if they can even survive coming back to the present, we don't," she let out a short, humorless laugh, "Harry, we don't even know how to get to the basement. We don't know where the fucking door is! How are you planning on saving them if you don't even know what door to open? Huh? Tell me. I'd really love to know."

"You done?" He spat back sarcastically. "Are you done telling me how stupid I am?"

Ginny, taken aback, replied angrily, "Excuse you? I didn't say anything about your intelligence! I'm just saying we aren't even close to being ready yet! It could take years to completely understand this spell! I'm not letting you walk in there completely unprepared!"

"I bet it wouldn't take Hermione years," He muttered under his breath.

"Yeah?" said Ginny yelled as tears sprung to her eyes. "Well, why don't you go ask her? She obviously really wants to help you so much, unlike me, who has only been here right next to you, working my ass off, by the way, every single day this week. You know what? If you think you know so much, why don't you just go fucking save your parents tonight? See if I care. See if I fucking care!" She stormed upstairs and slammed their bedroom door, leaving a thick, tense silence in the kitchen, where they had been eating dinner before the argument.

Harry just sat there for a long time, going over the fight in his head over and over again. Hearing her harsh words and his harsher ones. He knew she was right. She always was. But the frustration and anger burning in his gut twisted in a strange way when he thought of her last words. He knew it wasn't intended to really be a suggestion, but in his frustrated rage, it suddenly seemed like plausible solution. If he were able to successfully rescue his parents that night, all of his problems would be solved. He could have that much more time with them. Ten glorious days with his parents, his fiancé, and their unborn child before starting his dream job. Not a bad outcome for one night's work.

And that is how, an hour later, Harry found himself once more outside his childhood (or babyhood, really) home, armed only with his wand and his courage. He took a deep breath and opened the front gate once more. The overwhelming jungle mess that was once the yard was even more haunting and ominous at night. Eventually, he managed to fight his way through to the back of the house, where he suspected the door to be. Sure enough, he found a small pair of tilted, sun-bleached brown doors that surely lead to the basement. He pried them open after a couple minutes of struggle, and took a moment to reflect on this moment. He was about to step into another time completely; one where no one knew he was famous, that he was the 'Chosen One,' and, most importantly, no one expected him to be anything but a son. He wouldn't have to be a hero. Just a boy – well, man, really.

He peered through the open doors with a sort of trepidation. Only darkness lay below that first step, the kind of all-encompassing darkness that seemed to suck the oxygen out of the air and suffocated the skin. Taking the first step, Harry felt a shift in the world around him. Looking back, the outside world seemed to be behind a piece of thin plastic, blurred by the strength of the old magic. Another step, and the plastic turned to wax paper, splatters of white blocking out whole parts of the scene he left behind. A third, and it was a blank canvass of white, shapes barely distinguishable from one another. He tried to take a step back up to investigate, but found he could not. His feet were forced to the damp cement steps as if by a permanent sticking spell. The only way to go was forward.

He counted sixteen more steps before he was face to face with a door he could not see before. It was dark brown wood, probably to match the outer doors in their prime. It was extremely solid under his touch, refusing to even so much as jiggle in the doorway. Turning back to get one last glimpse of the outside world, Harry was only able to catch a small pinprick of light before the outer doors swung closed of their own volition. The finality of the loud bang echoed throughout the cavernous space, chilling him to the bone.

Turning back to the door in front of him, he figured there was only one thing to do now, and grasped the knob firmly. A white light began to spill from the edges of the door as Harry slipped away from consciousness.

** Friday**

Ginny is once again woken by the song about the genie in a bottle and begins to hum it softly, thinking it is quite catchy. She even lets it finish before hitting the snooze button for Harry and pulling herself out of bed. She's brushing her teeth while fighting off sleep once more when the alarm goes off a second time, in the middle of a commercial for something called 'car insurance.' It's so obnoxious and loud and Harry just will not turn it off, so Ginny spits out her toothpaste and hollers for him to shut it off. Gaining no response except the continued blaring of the radio, she stomps back to the bedroom only to discover a completely empty bed. At first she doesn't panic. But then she checks the office, goes downstairs, rushes through the kitchen, and is surprised by the harsh pounding of her own heart as she reaches the living room. He isn't home at all, which isn't odd in and of itself, except for the fact that it's seven thirty in the morning and Harry never wakes before nine at the very earliest.

Ginny tells herself to calm down. It's probably nothing. He's a grown man, he'll be fine. Maybe he left a note.

She finds nothing in the kitchen. Nothing in the bedroom. Nothing in the office. Heart still thumping heavily with worry, Ginny decides it's time to pull herself together. He'll probably be back soon and he can explain everything then. She tries to go on with her day.

He doesn't appear all day.

Ten o'clock that night finds Ginny distractedly rereading a book on time travel in the hopes that she will understand more of it this time. Unable to focus, she makes a cup of tea and ends up calling Hermione.

"Well, where could he be?" Hermione asks with concern.

"I don't know, I mean he doesn't start work for a few more weeks, I don't think he had any appointments today, and he's still fighting with Ron, so of course they aren't together," she lists off rapidly.

"No, Ron's here with me," Hermione interjects. "What? No, I wasn't talking to you, I'm on the phone with Ginny, Harry's gone and she hasn't a clue where he is," she says quietly to Ron as Ginny paces the cold tile floor of the kitchen.

"He's gone? Did she check every room in the house?" She can hear Ron speaking faintly from the other end.

"Of course she checked, Ron, he's been gone all day," Hermione responds with exasperation.

"Well, I just thought I'd ask. Ask her if there's anything we can do to help."

"Actually, if you two could go over to Mum and Dad's and see if he's there, that would be great," she answers with a small amount of hope, thinking that Ron must be really missing Harry if he was actually offering to help.

"Of course, we'll go right away," replies Hermione. "But what about you, are you really alright, Ginny?"

Ginny sighs heavily. "I guess I'm just under a lot of stress. We got into a bad fight last night, and I'm thinking that may be part of the reason…" A tear dashes uncontrolled down her face. She trembles so much she finally has to take a seat.

"I'm sure that has nothing to do with it. He probably just had something to do and forgot to tell you about it. I'm sure everything is perfectly fine."

"I really hope you're right. Merlin knows Harry isn't exactly the most levelheaded. I just hope he hasn't gone and done something stupid…" And then it hits her. The flashes of last night race through her mind like ice-cold wind. Her parting words. _You know what? If you think you know so much, why don't you just go fucking save your parents tonight? See if I care. See if I fucking care!_

"Oh no, oh no, Hermione, I think I know where he is," she chokes out, breath coming out in sobs as her throat constricts.

"What? Ginny, wait, what do you mean?" She hears Hermione's worried as if from a distance before dropping the receiver altogether. What has she done? Her fiancé, the one and only love of her life, has gone off to almost certain death without even knowing what he's facing, and it's all her fault. Her mind fogs and she grabs her stomach, doubled over and fighting for air. She planted the idea, cruelly taunted him with it. What she had seen as a well-placed insult had buried itself deep in his brain and become a plan. And now there's no way to get him back. She runs, stumbling, to the staircase. She has to get her shoes, has to get to him, has to stop him. She can't believe she didn't see it earlier. The last thing she registers is an excruciating stabbing pain in her stomach, along with the thought that he might already be dead, and then everything goes dark. She lies unconscious on the stairs, the only sound in the echoingly silent house Hermione's cries of her name through the phone.


End file.
